Santa, Homeless, a Drunk on Skid Row, Due to Global Warming.


All this pollution has to stop. Poor Santa Claus.


Santa Claus during good times.

Sorry kids, but Santa might not be delivering any toys this year. He's on a binge, after losing his home at the North Pole. Him and Mrs. Claus lost everything.


There's probably no one more famous, more recognizable all over the world than this jolly spectacled older fat guy.  So fat you wonder how he fits climbing down a chimney, with long white hair and a big white beard, while the little kids are in bed sleeping. The man is so selfless, this is all he has requested from all the children to leave him? 

Cookies and milk. 

He has never asked for much.


He usually dresses in this silly outfit; a bright red velvet suit with fluffy white trim, and big black galoshes on his feet and a big black belt to hold his gut in. Mrs. Claus is in charge of his dressing him, no wonder. He has this tam on his head, that hangs down his back with a white ball on the end.


You think it's amazing how he gets from store to store before you, but then again, he is a legend, a mystical and magical character from the fourth century folklore.


Santa Claus has other alias; Saint Nicholas, Father Christmas, Kris Kringle.  His friends call him Santa.


His main function was to deliver toys to all the well behaved children throughout the world.  He makes a lists all year. One list for naughty children and another of nice children. But this year he got side tracked.


He did this all, with the help of Mrs. Claus of course, and little elves with high voices, who helped make the toys in Santa's Workshop at the North Pole where he once lived, and where he had a herd of flying reindeer to help him deliver it, one with a flashing red nose, named Rudolf, who was the leader of the pack.


Thanks to Clement Clarke Moore who wrote a poem called:  A Visit From Saint Nicholas (1779-1863) this guy became famous.



This is a picture him this morning, on skid row, an alcoholic, drugged out, a petty thief, homeless living on Vancouver's Eastside. The after-effects of global warming.




It's sad.


Dog Brindle



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